


Iron Bear

by peterparkr



Series: Febuwhump 2020 [16]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony's getting way too domestic dad for Peter to handle, because don't we all, but not really whump, but secretly he loves it, febuwhump 2020, switching to febufluff for the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterparkr/pseuds/peterparkr
Summary: “Would you look at this?” Tony spins the bear around in the air to face Peter.His face blanches and he lunges for it, just as Tony assumed he would, so he manages to pull it away just in time.“That’s not supposed to be in there.”ORPeter brings some of his old toys over for Morgan
Relationships: Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Febuwhump 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620064
Comments: 35
Kudos: 592
Collections: Irondad and his Iron kids





	Iron Bear

**Author's Note:**

> Febufluff Day 16: Teddy Bear

Tony wipes his hands on his apron and pokes his head out of the kitchen after two thuds echo off the front door and down the hallway. There’s another set, this time a little harder and closer together. They’re too low on the door to be knuckles, unless someone is lying on the ground.

He shifts the curtains to the side (which doesn't help, all he can see is beige cardboard) and then swings the door open. It gives way to a tower of boxes. There’s a pair of worn-out sneakers that probably used to be white sticking out from below them.

The boxes shift a little. “Hey, Tony!”

“Box-man,” Tony says in a low voice. “So we meet again.”

“Oh my god.” He can practically hear the eye roll in the voice. “Morgan’s going to start talking just to tell you to stop. Her first words are going to be ‘shut up, Dad’. And I’m going to have to take her side on that.”

Tony laughs and props the door open so that Peter can make his way in. The boxes lean to the side as he awkwardly shuffles through.

“Do you want me to take some of those?”

“They’re super light. Just hard to maneuver.” As he says it, the top box’s edge catches on the doorframe and tumbles off. “Uh oh.”

Tony sticks his arms out and it lands perfectly on top of them. He stares down at it for a moment, thoroughly impressed with his reaction time. When he looks back up, he realizes that Peter’s head has appeared, floating over the stack.

"Do me a favor and let the team know that I'm still doing their job for them."

An excited glint rises in Peter's eyes, reminiscent of the one that always used to be there when he first started visiting the Tower. "Really? What did you do?"

Tony wiggles his eyebrows and raises the box a little. “Decapitated Box-Man. No big deal.”

The light dies. It makes Peter look like he sort of wishes the ground would swallow Tony whole.

The first time he saw that happen, Tony freaked out. It's a vivid memory. He buried his head in his arms on the island in the Tower's kitchen and dramatically recounted what had happened to Pepper.

"It's not a bad thing, dummy," she said. "It just means he doesn't see you as a—a god anymore. Or feel like he has to worship the ground you walk on. He's more comfortable. That's good."

The Pep talk changed how Tony thought about it. And now he recognizes the little muscles in Peter's cheeks that are straining to hold back a smile.

“You’ve seriously got to stop.” Peter walks past him into the living room and sets the boxes on the floor. He goes over to the playpen that Morgan's fast asleep in and smiles down at her before flopping onto the couch.

“You used to think I was cool. I miss that,” Tony laments, to keep up the little game. Because Pepper was right—always is. He definitely likes it better this way.

“It’s your own fault. You stopped being cool.”

Tony twists his face into his best outraged expression, cultivated from years of fielding complaints from socialites at SI events. He transforms it into a cross-eyed, tongue out, face twisted up, sort of deal and walks over to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors for the boxes.

“See!” Peter sits up and points. “A year ago you would have whipped out a laser beam or something but now you have a pair of—are those _safety_ scissors? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s called child-proofing.”

“She can’t even walk yet. How’s she going to get the scissors?”

Tony shrugs. “You never know. Kids are sneaky.”

“She’s seven months old.”

“And?” He clicks the scissor blades at Peter once and then turns them on the boxes. Admittedly, the dull scissors make the process more difficult. No matter how many times he closes them on the tape, they don’t so much as make a dent. Maybe it’s the tape's fault. Typical of the super-kid to use super-strength tape. “What’s in these anyway?”

“All of my toys from when I was a little kid. May wanted me to bring them.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. It’s not as if Morgan needs hand-me-downs. He has enough money to pay for all of the toys that her little heart desires. 

“You guys didn’t have to,” he says slowly.

“I think May wanted to clear up closet space.”

“You could have sold them or—”

“Well, she’s still kind of attached, you know? Wants them to stay in the family.”

Tony pauses his safety scissor assault on the box. He finds Peter smiling at him hesitantly from his position on the couch. It’s a new thing—this little family they’ve created. Tony’s not sure exactly how it happened, even less sure of when they started acknowledging it. All he knows is that he and Pepper found themselves at the Parker’s apartment on the first night of Hanukkah last year. And then the Parkers showed up at the Lakehouse along with Rhodey and Happy and their families on Christmas Day.

It’s good. Tony likes it.

“May also wants me to tell you that even though you and Pepper haven't asked her to be Morgan’s godmother-type-thing yet, she is still interested in the position. If you've asked someone else, you might want to just tell her that it's her anyway. I don't think she'd ever get over it.”

“Noted.” Tony’s voice is a little too thick. He clears his throat and refocuses on the box. He switches tactics, sticks the sorry excuses for a blade into the tape and tries to pry up one of the flaps. 

The blade—sans flap—pops up suddenly, coming directly at his face with the force he had been trying to apply into the box. He manages to stop their momentum just as Peter starts gasping and lunging forward. The tip hangs in the air—about an inch away from poking out Tony's eyeball.

“Safety scissors, everybody," he says, twisting them around and analyzing them. "Not very aptly named."

“I’m just going to tear them open,” Peter decides.

He hauls himself off the couch and kneels in front of the first box, easily ripping through the tape without even a slight grimace. Tony shakes his head. He could have lead with that—made Tony’s life easier and prevented a near fatal safety scissors incident.

“There’s a lot of these,” Tony says, glancing around at them. He punches Peter’s shoulder lightly. “Spoiled, huh?”

Peter shakes his head and rolls his eyes again, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like ‘coming from you’ under his breath. 

He tears open another box. “A lot of people pitched in after my parents died. Everybody loves an orphan.”

His tone is light, so Tony tries to crack a smile. It doesn’t feel genuine. He's been surprised to find himself thinking about Mary and Richard Parker quite often now that he has a little baby of his own. It’s terrifying how quickly things can happen. Morgan could end up all alone in an instant. Well, not all alone, because his and Pepper’s little family isn’t quite as small as it could be. May's cinched herself the godmother position after all.

Peter grins over his shoulder. “It’s a joke. Orphan to orphan. You’re supposed to laugh.”

“Orphan at four is a little different than orphan at seventeen.”

“Which is why I’m a gold card member and you’re, like, bronze, at best.”

“I’m at least silver.”

“Your hair’s sure getting there.”

Peter looks far too pleased with himself. Tony reaches into the nearest box and throws the first thing he sees—a little stuffed Beanie Baby husky—at him.

Peter picks it up from the floor after it bounces off him, almost cradling the thing. “I deserved that, but Avalanche didn’t. He’s innocent!”

Tony snorts and starts unpacking the rest of the box. It’s full to the brim with stuffed animals. There’s an elephant and a tiger, but mostly it’s just various types of dogs. That feels like a hint. Maybe he should get the kid a real one for his birthday. He puts the thought on the back-burner for now.

Then he pulls out a teddy bear that makes him stop short. He holds it up in the air, taking in the view. It’s light brown, with a red t-shirt on. There’s a blue circle stitched into the center of the shirt, reminiscent of an arc reactor. On the paws, there are two red glove gauntlets. It’s a bit beat up, one of the ears is missing and someone—Tony guesses May—has sewn up the head where it should have been. Someone else—Tony guesses Peter—has drawn a shaky sort of goatee on the bear’s face in sharpie.

“Would you look at this?” Tony spins it around in the air to face Peter.

His face blanches and he lunges for it, just as Tony assumed he would, so he manages to pull it away just in time.

“That’s not supposed to be in there.”

“Wait’ll I show the team.” Tony takes his phone out of his pocket. “Wilson will love this.”

“Stop—no, give it back!”

“Why? Still sleep with it at night?”

“I haven’t slept with it in y—I mean I don’t—I never—”

Tony hums and holds out the bear to snap a picture. Peter sticks his hand in front of the phone's camera to block it.

“Hey,” Tony complains.

He stands and half-jogs out of the room with the phone and bear in hand. It’s not his brightest or most mature moment—a game of high-stakes tag with a super-kid. The good thing is that even though Peter’s more of a menace than he used to be when he thought Tony was ‘cool’, he’s still polite—doesn’t tap into his powers too much as he chases Tony around the living room. If he really wanted to, he could end the charade effortlessly.

“This is ridiculous. Just give me Iron Bear.”

“ _Iron Bear_ ,” Tony exclaims, happily. “This is a Build-a-bear, right? I remember signing off on that—or telling Pepper to sign off. I tried to convince her to talk them into a dog. Could have called it Tony Bark.”

He turns back to Peter, holds the bear out and this time, actually does get a picture. It’s pretty spectacular. Peter’s in the background with an anguished look on his face, reaching for it. 

He laughs. “Perfect.”

He opens messages and attaches it in the Avengers group-chat. He’s about to hit send when there’s a sharp _thwip_ and his phone flies out of his hand.

“It’s not a Build-A-Bear,” Peter says. “May made the shirt and gloves.”

Tony stares down at his empty hand, then over at the hand that Iron Bear is in, then up at Peter. He points at him. “You can’t use web shooters. That’s cheating.”

“It can’t be cheating if there aren't any rules.” Peter's voice is mocking, like he's quoting something that Tony has said before and twisting the words against him. It does sound like something he would say. He can't quite put his finger on any specific scenario, though.

Peter fiddles with the phone, probably deleting the picture. Tony pouts a little bit.

“You don’t want to show off your artistry? The goatee is a nice touch.” Tony pokes at the jagged lines.

“I was seven!”

“So you got this, what, four years ago?”

Peter groans and Tony holds it up again. Now that he thinks about it, he does remember the official Build-A-Bears being red. It’s more sweet, that May dressed this one up for Peter when he was a kid.

“So, you weren’t just blowing smoke up my ass when you said that you were a fan.”

“Of course not.” Peter almost looks offended. “I was a huge fan.”

Tony tosses it to him. He catches it with one hand and then looks up at Tony quizzically.

“Keep that one. Morgan’s got plenty of toys. Don't want her to develop a complex. And you’re not a grown-up anyway—still need something to scare away the monsters.”

Peter’s mouth immediately curves into a grin. He tries to tame it into a glare. 

There’s babbling from the direction of the playpen. Both of their heads turn automatically towards it.

Morgan raises her hands and Peter bounds over to her, glancing back at Tony for permission before scooping her up and bouncing her a few times. 

“Hi, Morgan! How are you doing?”

Tony’s heart melts a little looking at the two of them. Morgan places a hand on the single ear that Iron Bear has left and digs her fingers into it, pulling slightly. Then she runs one of her tiny little fingers over the sharpie goatee.

“Da,” she gurgles, tugging at the bear a bit more. “Da Dada.”

Peter’s eyes fly open as he looks up at Tony. “She knows it’s you!”

“No she doesn’t. Like you said, she’s 7 months old.”

“She said 'Dada'!”

Tony shakes his head. “Those are just sounds.”

“Dada,” Morgan repeats. She wraps her hands around the neck of the bear. Tony can’t help but think it looks like she’s strangling him. He tilts his head to the side. 

“See?! She did it again!”

“That doesn’t mean—”

Morgan looks up at Tony, directly in the eyes, repeats ‘Dada’ once again, and then promptly starts munching on the bear’s ear.

“If she is saying my name, I think she wants to kill me. Look at her hands wrapped around my—the bear’s neck! And now she’s eating the ear—”

“Too many dad jokes.” Peter smirks and holds Morgan out to him. "I have to hit the grocery store for May before dinner, so I have to head out."

Tony reaches for Morgan. She clutches onto the bear tighter and pushes her head into the soft worn plush of its stomach.

“Come on, Morgan.” Tony grabs her and starts to lift her up out of Peter’s arms. “Come to real ‘Dada’.”

“Dada,” she says again, this time the unmistakable notes of a whine creeping into the two syllables. Her hands are still around the bear’s neck.

“Let go of Peter’s bear, Morgan.”

There are tears welling in her eyes. Tony estimates about thirty seconds until they have an all-out screaming fit on their hands. He meets Peter’s eyes.

“Just grab the bear and go. Get out of here before it’s too late.”

“I’m not ripping a stuffed animal out of a baby’s arms!”

“Well, don’t rip it. Be gentle.”

“Tony!”

“She’s going to start wailing in T-minus—”

“Not if I let her have him?”

Tony pauses. The statement is phrased like a question, and Peter’s face looks just as uncertain as he sounds. Tony’s starting to think that his jokes about Peter still wanting the bear might have been spot on.

“It’s yours, kid.”

“No, I brought all of this stuff over here for Morgan.”

“You said Iron Bear wasn’t supposed to be in it.

“Yeah, well.” Peter shrugs. “She likes him, so, she can have him.”

Peter lets go of the bear so that it’s just in Morgan’s hands. Tony gives Peter one final look before lifting Morgan and the bear completely out of his arms.

The mist in Morgan’s eyes leaves just as quickly as it appears. She goes back to chewing happily on the ear. 

“Give it a week and bear-me will be earless. Poor guy.” 

“It’s less violent than what happened to the first ear.”

Tony feels his eyebrows leap toward his hairline. “What do you mean?”

Peter shakes his head.

“What happened to the other ear, Peter?”

“Let’s just say that there was a horrific accident involving nail clippers, a skateboard, Ned, and—”

“You know what? I don’t want to know.”

Peter laughs. He reaches forward and runs a hand over the bear’s head. Morgan ducks her head into the shoulder protectively.

“See you later, Iron Bear. Morgan will be good to you.”

“Besides the ear thing.”

“Besides the ear thing,” Peter agrees. “That’s a tradition.”

"Tradition," Tony repeats thoughtfully.

Peter makes his way toward the door. “Guess this means I am a grown-up then.”

“Not a chance!”

The door slams shut a few moments later and Tony's left with a one-eared Teddy Bear, a daughter who might want to kill him, and a vague suspicion that the most important part of his legacy might not be a suit of armor, or saving the world a couple times over. If he's lucky, Morgan won't be the last child to try to strangle Iron Bear. Then maybe the thing that will be left of him after he's gone—the thing that will be passed down—won't be something that he made or did, but instead, a kid's toy, with a little outfit stitched together by May Parker. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr!](https://peterparkrr.tumblr.com)


End file.
